


S.O.S

by Starthewolf1106



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 06:40:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17740799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starthewolf1106/pseuds/Starthewolf1106
Summary: An AU where Tony was snapped instead of Peter





	1. Denial

**Author's Note:**

> “Can anybody hear me? Or am I talking to myself?”
> 
> -Astronaut by Simple Plan

Peter stared at the dust on his hands. He still remembered the look of horror on his father-figure’s face as he watched his own hands turn to dust. He had sobbed, begging Tony not to leave him. But Tony couldn’t help it. Thanos had won, and he had been snapped, along with the rest of the Gaurdians of the Galaxy.

He was curled up in a small ball, trying desperately to process what had happened just a few hours prior. No matter what he did, no matter what he told himself, he found himself hoping that if he fell asleep, Mr. Stark would be there when he woke up. 

Hunger and thirst pricked at his throat like a cactus thorn, but pain, exhaustion, and grief got the better of him, and he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

Peter awoke many hours later, when the sun was down. He was alone, and this hurt even more. However, the slight prickle of hunger had turned into a roaring inferno of starvation, and he knew he must find food on this cursed planet. 

 Stumbling to his feet, he looked around. As far as he could tell, there was nothing to eat or drink. It didn’t rain, or if it had it hadn’t been for years. There was no shelter. 

 He began to wander, his mind blank. He saw everything and nothing at once. He distinctly remembers stumbling upon a small carrot-like root, that both dulled his hunger and quenched his thirst. He felt... empty.

 He must’ve fallen asleep again, because when he woke up, the sun was rising. It would’ve been beautiful, had it not been in such a dire situation. Peter had the sinking suspicion that he would never see anything truly beautiful again.

 Turning, he took note of his surroundings. The roots were growing in a large, thick patch, stretching as far as he could see. They seemed to get their water from underground. Deciding to stay close to them, Peter turned to find a shelter. 

 Eventually deciding that a small hole on the side of a nearby hill was enough, he began to dig.  _“Maybe,”_ he thought,  _“just maybe I might be able to survive.”_


	2. Bargaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Kübler-Ross’s model of the cycle of grief, bargaining comes after anger. However, since most experience these out-of-turn, I’ve decided to put bargaining before anger. I feel this goes well with the story plot, and makes it run smoother. Enjoy :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “My mind is running empty,  
> In this search for someone else,  
> Who doesn’t look right through me,  
> It’s all just static in my head.”
> 
> —‘Astronaut’ by Simple Plan

When Peter awoke, a crimson sun shone bright light on him. Dark red specks of dust stuck to his clothes and skin, reminding him of dried blood. 

Panic like an ocean storm clashed with fierce, stone-like determination. Rushing out of his small burrow, he quickly grabbed some roots, (Titaroots, as he called them) and rushed forward.

Grabbing as many stones as his trembling arms could clasp, he scrambled towards a low, unbroken area. He made many short voyages to collect these odd-shaped stones,putting his frail, weakened body to the test. Back and forth he went, like a squirrel, storing food in its cache. He ran with all the energy his bruised, starved form could muster, focused on nothing but this.

He had to do this, this was his only chance at rescue. His only chance at safety. He just wanted to go home, and if there was even a slight chance,then  _ **by god,**_ he was going to take it. 

Desperation made him run faster, as if being chased by a horrendous monster. In a way, he was. While he was doing this, his frantic, disturbed mind was at ease, no longer screaming its worries and fears at him. Despite the way his feet ached, and the way his lungs burned, his mind was silent. 

By time he was finished, the scarlet sun was setting, leaving behind dull, copper rays and lurking shadows. His lungs screamed for rest; his muscles for mercy. His eyes stung, both with dust and with tears of desperation. He felt like he was underwater, he couldn’t breathe. Stumbling, he made his way to a small hill.

Sitting down, he rubbed the backs of his hands to ground himself.  _Breathe,_ he reminded himself,  _breathe, and look around you._

 _What can you see?_ Opening his eyes, he looked around. “Dust, the SOS sign I made out of rocks, the setting sun, the Titaroot patch, and my burrow.” He whispered softly to himself.

 _What can you hear?_ Straining his ears against the deafening silence, he closed his eyes and focused. “A slight breeze, the rustle of the Titaroot leaves, and my own voice.”

 _What can you smell?_ Lifting his nose the the sky, he took in a few deep breaths through his nose. “Dust, dirt, Titaroots, and..” He paused. “Dried blood.” He gulped.

 _What can you taste?_ Swiping his tongue around his mouth, he yawned and continued. “The after-taste of breakfast, dust, faint blood, and sweat.”

 _What can you feel?_ “I can feel the dust beneath my hands.” He dug his fingers into Titan’s barren soil. “It’s flaky and dry.”

Peter sat like this for a while, breathing in and out. He kept himself calm, waiting all throughout the night for something,  _anything_ to happen. Eventually, when the sun rose once again, he was forced to head back to his burrow to sleep.

* * *

 

When he awoke, he could hear something unusual. He could hear runnin water. Digging downwards a little bit, he discovered an underground stream. Once deeming that the stream was clean, he began to drink and wash his face. 

Walking out of his burrow, he decided to explore a bit. He figured that perhaps he may come across something to get him home. 

After walking for a bit, he neared the edge of what appeared to be a cliff. However, the cliff was covered in a strange kind of vine. His spider-sense didn’t buzz when near it, so he figured the vine was safe. The said vine, which he decided to name the thorn-flower vine, had thousands of small, hooked thorns on the thick stem. At the end of the vine was a flower, which had three small acorn-like nuts on them. 

Again, his spider-sense didn’t warn him of any danger, so he quickly gathered as many nuts as he could hold in his pockets, and went back to his burrow. 

Back at his burrow, he dug a few shelves out of the wall. Storing the nuts on this shelf, he realized he had no where to sleep. Turning back, he quickly branched off a new burrow, this time heading a bit deeper. This burrow, he lined with the leaves of the Titaroots he had ate. Satisfied that now he had a better burrow, he turned back the the main tunnel.

Scuttling out of his burrow, he decided he needed a type of door. Spotting a large stone nearby, he used his super-strength to move it in front of the burrow. Only he would be able to move it, he realized. He wondered what Mr. Stark was say if he saw his progress. 

Peter’s lips curled upwards slightly in a sad smile as he imagined the words; “Nice work, Underoos.”


End file.
